


memory is a fickle siren's song

by lilaclavenders



Series: 'til we have faces [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 13:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaclavenders/pseuds/lilaclavenders
Summary: This time they're just a man and his fiancé, in a quiet apartment in St. Petersburg.Viktor Nikiforov was never anyone's son, just a figment of your heart, Katsuki Yuuri. You constantly fall in love, fall fall fall, Katsuki Yuuri.You sound so desperate, a far cry from what you once were. We mourn for you.





	memory is a fickle siren's song

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from: he doesn't know why - fleet foxes
> 
> assume the italics are from fellow gods/goddesses and ghosts of viktor and yuuri's pasts. so if you want to, think of the snarkier comments from the likes of yuri plisetsky, the empathetic ones from phichit and georgi etc... sometimes they're actual things yuuri thinks of, but i can't seem to pinpoint where it ends and begins since yuuri's anxious thoughts and whatever mess this is seems to be blending?
> 
> viktor's canon forgetfulness and aloof appearance and yuuri's bad habit of getting emotionally attached to everyone and being overly observant is just intensified to the MAX
> 
> i have no idea what this all means, but if you have any questions about how vague i've made this pls ask and i will answer

i)

This time they're just a man and his fiancé, in a quiet apartment in St. Petersburg.

"Your parents," A man's fiancé whispers, already apologising on behalf of people he doesn't know. He's already uttered these words once before, but the man doesn't know it yet.

The man, who usually seeks the unexpected, feels a slight unease from this unexpected midnight confession. He freezes, letting the ticking of the clock in their kitchen take over his silence. He likes to pretend he's a little less of a genius than he really is; his fiancé knows better-

_He knows everything._

"They pushed you so hard," The man's fiancé whispers, playing with moonlit silver, watching it melt between his fingers. His fiancé is nothing but kind and patient - he's used to waiting for good things because he deserves them. "Pushing you to remember how to win."

_What a peculiar turn of phrase, what is it he's trying to say?_

(Though in this life his fiancé doesn't believe in the word good, much less apply it to himself.)

The man's rising heartbeat gives everything away, outpacing the ticking of a distant clock, almost outpacing his fiancé's incessant overthinking. The man forgets that the coach and his wife, as cold and disciplined as their respective sports, are not his real parents.

_Viktor Nikiforov, you forget a lot of things._

A ballerina and her skater are both flexible, twisting themselves into different shapes and adapting themselves into the environments they're thrown into.

_Such hypocrisy, Viktor Nikiforov, you know how to deceive the most out of anyone on this damned earth!_

_Poor Viktor Nikiforov, who conveniently forgets a lot, the world has been forgiving this far._

"That's what love is to them," he responds, scoffing as if he doesn't care.

"They do love you," the fiancé whispers. "You just didn't realise it. Is a kind-looking person always a loving one?"

(But of course, Viktor Nikiforov isn't just any man and Yuuri Katsuki isn't just his fiancé either.)

_Everyone knows that silver is a little less precious than gold, Viktor Nikiforov._

_But it's alright, because you can always cut your hair off. Samson loved the rush of wind the temple gave when it tumbled down, down, down._

_But, Viktor Nikiforov, your parents gave you talents you never wanted in the first place. Why, you're practically perfect._

_Gods are nothing but perfect,_ scoffs another.

_Viktor, did your parents ever tell you that you're perfect?_

Lilia Baranovskaya and Alexandra Nikiforova blink with the same unyielding green eyes, pushing Viktor Nikiforov back two steps when he had only learnt how to step forward once. He once saw green as a beautiful colour; it promotes prosperity and growth, his mama had said.

_Love is a funny, little growing thing, isn't it?_

_(Alexandra and Lilia's voices push the air out of his lungs, the sounds equivalent to deep, sharp knives. "I don't care how many times you've won gold, it just means you've won, not that you are the best-"_

_They pushed around an ivory chess piece that can only move forwards; he had no choice but to only move forwards.)_

_Viktor Nikiforov, you thought you were the King, but you were their pawn. You thought you were a king._

_But what good is a king's power when there could be gods out there?_

_With the arrogance of any beautiful man, Viktor Nikiforov wouldn't know the shape of a real God even if they hit him in the face._

A talent may be considered a gift, but make no mistake - you cannot give it away to someone else. You cannot skate in the name of - _agape, storge, philia, eros_ \- love, if you do not have any to share.

Presents, or gifts, are something shared, something you are to pass to one another. Talent is a selfish thing-

_As are their owners._

_Are you able to rip apart your soul for someone else?_ _Are you willing?_

_Ice breaks and shapes bones, breaks and shapes gifts like yours. Viktor Nikiforov, you've spent so long looking for yourself in the reflection of ice that you've forgotten everything else._

_You start to fall apart once you've realised you've forgotten. Though others don't mind the sensation of falling._

_(Poor Katsuki Yuuri.)_

Green and blue, the earth's colours. Yakov and Lilia, the ravaging sea and his land, do not need to get along to see that the sky envelopes their entire world.

_There is a reason why people only seem to like clear, blue skies._

But the sky can only handle so much, creates a hurricane in order for the sea to beg the land for solace and for land to give in to the his temptation and drown.

_War and peace - there is no true opposite of love, just the absence._

_Maybe that's worse than hate, Viktor Nikiforov, indifference._

_Someone who wins is someone who knows what it's like to have lost everything._

_(Like memories.)_

_To have felt nothing and won it anyway - what are you supposed to feel, if there is nothing to refer to?_

 

ii) 

A man and his fiancé talk about their fears and the lack of memory under the pretence of his parents' physical and emotional distance. They aren't just two ambitious kids, two skaters or two loving husbands-to-be.

Sometimes he's luck, wishful thinking and sometimes his fiancé can be diligence, love.

Gods can only stay cooped up in their temples for so long-

_Is that why Viktor Nikiforov exists?_

_Did he ever really have parents to begin with? This life's beginning hadn't been the beginning at all._

_All poor Viktor Nikiforov knows is that his hair shines like silver, his hands are full of gold._

_Word on the street says platinum is something better, rarer, tougher._

_Falling from the top-_

_There's something about human bodies, decaying while they continue to grow. Katsuki Yuuri, is human struggle and heartbreak no longer a novelty to you?_

"They pushed you so hard," Yuuri urges, trying to get Viktor Nikiforov back from his flight. "But they're not here anymore, _Vitya_."

_Viktor Nikiforov was never anyone's son, just a figment of your heart, Katsuki Yuuri. You constantly fall in love, fall fall fall, Katsuki Yuuri._

_You sound so desperate, a far cry from what you once were. We mourn for you._

"No," Vitya replies, with a murmur as humble as he could pretend.

Gods have never been quieter than the prayers of their worshippers.

_But then again, Viktor's forgotten everything._

And Yuuri's forgotten nothing, his thoughts rattle with the words good, bad and everything in between.

 _Vitya is loving_ , he begs, his human chest aching in a human way.

 _But is he good, Katsuki Yuuri?_ whispers back _. Can you answer that? Heaven knows you'll care for the man you love when he's gone - but we want to know, is he any good?_

_Can a God who abandons his people after he's had enough be considered as good? How would you know who's good in this world?_

_He who seeks power and light in the form of love will fall fall fall, Katsuki Yuuri._

It would've been easier, for sweet

_Yuuri Katsuki, Katsuki Yuuri, Yuuri, Yura, Yuu-chan, Katsuki-san, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov, Sweetheart, Love, Darling-_

to have left it there, wallowing in whatever pity Viktor's drowned himself in. Viktor's almost reaching his third decade of humanity, and he hasn't even spoken to the woman and husband who gifted him his silver hair and icy eyes back when the world didn't know Viktor Nikiforov existed.

But Yakov Feltsman and Lilia Baranovskaya know everything. War and peace, whatever they fight for, too flawed to even be counted as human.

( _A skater torn apart by war, his eyes aren't as blue as the man who sired Viktor Nikiforov but he still watches him out of the corner of his eye like he used to-_

 _"Vitya," he says, with a grumble like earthquakes. "Don't forget to watch your knee! Why do you never listen to me?"_ )

_Achilles could still walk on his heels- He had to! He wouldn't dare fall until he had won, or so whatever he wished._

_Whatever that means._

"Vitya," Yuuri sighs, his hands drawing hearts on his fiancé's cheek. "They aren't here right now. So who's pushing you?"

_What's stopping Viktor Nikiforov from seeing Katsuki Yuuri the way he's supposed to be?_

_Viktor Nikiforov, worth a mere second of celestial time, can hold his victories in two hands; Katsuki Yuuri, or whoever you are, you hold yours with the creation of universes._

_Vitya forgets sometimes, you see_ , he begs.

_Viktor Nikiforov has the power we can only dream of! Only he has the audacity to forget about it!_

"No one," Stubborn in the form of Viktor Nikiforov responds, puffing air through his nose. "Good night, darling."

"I love you, _Vitya_ ," Yuuri insists. "But, you usually sleep before 9pm unless something bothers you. When that happens, you will only sleep until I do."

He's always been observant, knowing.

_Katsuki Yuuri will always be the first to gain consciousness, to flower, even if Viktor Nikiforov is the first to see sunlight. Such a shame, to fall. Falling always ends with a crash land of pain._

_(Which is why he must remember.)_

Viktor chuckles, facing his fiancé. "I'm not quite sure," he says, with a vulnerability shadowing his face. "Something's happening in my brain and I can't quite figure it out."

_Figure it out, Viktor Nikiforov. Yuuri may be patient, but there's only so long a human heart can take with an ancient mind. Figure it out and you'll be happier for it, break the fall quickly._

"Is it in your brain?" Yuuri asks, timid. He lowers his hand over Viktor's heart, tracing an intricate pattern above his ribcage. It's something akin to a stitch.

_Viktor Nikiforov, you are neither good or bad - you belong, in a contract, a soul-binding deal that stretches beyond any ring or kiss or declaration of love!_

_Let yourself fall back into it! He doesn't care if you lose-_

Yuuri knows, it happens everytime. When he was 15, he learned that a God is omniscient, loving and patient. "Let me know when you figure it out, Vitya. I'll be sleeping soon."

_How can you surround yourself with such a flawed thing, Katsuki Yuuri?_

_I must wonder, as a painter's personality blossoms through their paintings; does a creation's personality blossom within his creator's?_

_("Is a God kind? Love and kindness are not always the same thing, Katsuki Yuuri," A ballet dancer had once told him, eyes like gunpowder and a volcano's tempest. Her words were as sharp as lightning and her wit seemed to have reached the depths of Alexandria's library - beyond comprehension and discover as time passes on._

_"I'm not sure, is it kind if they try to be?" Yuuri responds, a little unsure, guilty. His glasses are too big for his face, so he pushes them up._

_"You do not speak of things unless there is an element of truth behind them, Yuuri." Minako Okukawa gently reminds him, her eyes flickering with sorro_ w.)

_That is what she cursed him with after all, the gift of the truth. Cassandra never lived to see her happy ending, and neither will he if he keeps falling falling falling-_

_Katsuki Yuuri! What happens if you only love one - what will happen to us all?_

_A gold ring is nothing compared to thousands of years of patience and devotion - Viktor Nikiforov, what is it about you? How did you manage to make time itself revolve around you?_

_How do you turn a god into your worshipper? How do you use the very thing he creates to capture him under your spell?_

_The temple continues to fall fall fall fall fall fall fall_

_fall_

_He has to return soon._

So Yuuri sleeps, keeping his body content, while his stars seem to restlessly soar like the sea does when reaching for the moon. He listens to the prayer of his fiancé, and he can be a man for as long has he can. He likes being Katsuki Yuuri, and he likes being able to love.

_Another day, Katsuki Yuuri, we may spare his heart from your burden. But beware, for his destiny was planned long before you ever loved him._

_Pretend as you may, but you simply weren't destined to be a man and his fiancé forever. Stars can only live for so long, can be turned into other stars and more stars and more and more before you too, must undo the mess you've made._

_Let your heart fall a little further, and see what happens. We cannot always be there to catch you._

_Love conquers all - it isn't as romantic as you hoped it would be, is it, Katsuki Yuuri?_

Today, they're just a fiancé and his man; sometimes they lose everything and sometimes they hear voices in their heads and forget things and sometimes they don't.


End file.
